The Truest Lie
by cynthiatennant
Summary: This story takes place somewhere between season one and season two. And old friend of Fraser's comes to visit, and proves to be something short of life changing.
1. Chapter 1

These hours of the day were by far the most peaceful, Fraser thought as he absentmindedly meandered down the crowded streets. Walking home from work with the thoughts of dinner and a comfortable night in his small yet cozy apartment....SMACK.

His thoughts were interrupted as he felt himself smash into another person. "Oh dear, I am so sorry," he said hurriedly, as he steadied himself.

The woman had shiny, wavy, pale blonde hair, and she was kneeling down to pick up several fallen books that had been scattered on the pavement. She mumbled something incomprehensible.

"Allow me," Fraser said quickly, bending down to help her, but to his dismay they collided again.

"Ow," she muttered, turning away from him so he could not see her face.

"I am so sorry ma'am." Fraser said desperately, blushing with embarrassment. "I was just trying to help."

"Yeah, well," she grumbled. "A lot of help _that_ did."

As she turned towards him, a slightly sarcastic smile on her face, Fraser was suddenly hit by a rush of emotions which he could not begin to make out.

"Oh my god," she said slowly, as her wide silvery blue eyes took him in.

"I-" he started, but he found that he could not speak.

"You-"

"Are you-?"

"We'd better stand up," she said quickly, grabbing the books and getting to her feet.

He nodded and did the same. "Would you-" he gestured hopelessly towards a cafe a few feet away.

She nodded and followed him.

They sat down at the only vacant table, and for a long moment simply looked at each other.

"You look exactly the same," the woman said slowly.

"So do you."

"I can't believe this."

"Me'n either," he said weakly. "I never thought I'd see you again."

"Benton Fraser," she said slowly. "What in the world are you doing in a place like this?"

"Well, I'm actually here to try and figure out if you're who I think you are, because given the circumstances, it appears to be rather impossible."

"No, I mean, _what are you doing in Chicago_?"

"Oh," Fraser said. "Well, I first came to Chicago on the trail of the killers of my father, and for reasons that don't need exploring at this juncture I've remained, attached as liaison with the Canadian Consulate."

As she threw back her head, laughing, Fraser couldn't help but notice how attractive she really was. Her hair was like corn silk, and her eyes such a distinctive color.

"You always did have a way with words, Ben."

He laughed weakly. "It's good to see you, Cheyenne. Surprising, but good."

"Yeah," she smiled warmly. "Similar sentiments my friend."

"How have you been doing?" Fraser asked, making a stab at a normal conversation.

"Oh you know," she said casually. "I've been good, but sort of nomadic really. I've moved five times within the past two years."

"That must be difficult," Fraser answered.

"A little," she smiled, scrutinizing him with those penetrating eyes.

Fraser coughed, suddenly feeling awkward. "Have you moved here, or are you just visiting?"

"Visiting," she said vaguely. "I used to come to Chicago sometimes when I was a little girl. I'd been planning on coming back for a while now."

"Ah," Fraser said, twisting his hands in his lap. "And where are you staying?"

"Actually, nowhere," Cheyenne said, grinning. "I just got here today. I'll probably check into a hotel later this afternoon, although I really wouldn't mind if you invited me to stay with you."

He laughed, amused. "You're still as witty as ever," he said fondly. "And of course you can stay with me. I would expect nothing less."

"Thank you _kindly_." She said, imitating him.

He grinned. "I don't know if you'll approve of my living conditions though. My apartment is a constantly being ridiculed by others, and I must confess that it is not very grand."

"Oh, it'll do I'm sure," she said, waving a hand through the air. "I find myself sleeping in my truck a lot lately, so it should be quite fantastic."

"You still have the truck?" Fraser asked, smiling fondly as he remembered the old beat up red pick up truck.

"Oh yes," she grinned. "And it breaks down just as much as it used to, if not more."  
"Where are you parked? We can drive up to my apartment. There's a complex nearby."  
"Just around the corner. I was actually on my way to the car when you so rudely ran into me." She gazed at him shrewdly.

"Oh," he blushed. She really had always had this way of making him feel uncomfortable. "I am so sorry about that, Cheyenne. I guess I should pay more attention to the direction in which I am going. In the future, I mean."

"Yes, you should," she smiled, getting up. "Come along, Ben. Lets go find my car."


	2. Chapter 2

"It's not much," Fraser said as the lock clicked and he opened the door.

Cheyenne didn't answer him as she crossed the threshold. She turned, taking in the peeling wallpaper, shabby furniture, and the broken TV set. Then she grinned. "Oh Ben," she laughed. "It's so _you_; Not too flamboyant and pretentious; just all the necessities."

He wasn't sure whether or not this was a compliment.

"And who is this?" Diefenbaker had come over to investigate the scene, and he was sniffing Cheyenne vigorously, ears priced with curiosity.

"Ah," Fraser smiled. "That is my wolf, Diefenbaker. You must forgive him; he's always a little suspicious of strangers."

"You _would_ have a wolf," Cheyenne said vaguely, scratching Dief behind the ears. His tail wagged, and he licked her hand.

"I think he likes your scent. He can probably tell you're from his native land."

"He's so sweet," she cooed. "And a Canadian too!"

Fraser rolled his eyes. "Dief, come!" He said loudly.

Diefenbaker's ears twitched, and he whined.

"He is also deaf," Fraser explained as Cheyenne looked up, eyebrows raised. "Although sometimes I think he uses that as an excuse to be disobedient."

Cheyenne snorted. "Smart wolf,"

Fraser shook his head in exasperation, and silence fell. Cheyenne appraised him, a half smile on her face. "You look great, Ben."

"You do too," he said, blushing a little. It was true. When he had last seen her, she had been a teenager, still unbelievably attractive, but not quite yet a woman. Now she had filled out a bit into her long skinny figure, and reddening deeper, Fraser realized that she had grown up…Into a stunning young woman.

"What?" she asked curiously and he realized he had been staring at her.

Quickly he averted his eyes. "It's nothing." Then looking around, he caught sight of the darkening skies outside of the small and slightly dirty window. "Are you hungry?"

"Not really," she smiled. "But I really would love to make you dinner."

"Don't be ridiculous, Cheyenne. You're my guest."

"Please?" she begged, taking his much larger hand in hers. "I have to make some kind of contribution, and I know I'm a much better cook than you."

Fraser sighed, knowing full well that this was true. "Okay, but I do insist on helping."

After a thorough examination of the kitchen, she decided to make spaghetti Bolognese. Fraser nobly attempted to assist her, but after nearly congealing the spaghetti, Cheyenne kicked him out of the kitchen.

Fraser changed into jeans and a flannel shirt, and set the table. A few minutes later, Cheyenne appeared, carrying a bowl filled with steaming hot spaghetti. It smelled delicious.

"Bon appetite," she said, and with a very authentic accent.

They sat down to eat, making small talk.

"I always knew you would become a mountie," Cheyenne said with a smile, once their plates were empty.

Fraser shrugged. "I've never really wanted to do anything else."

"God I wish I was like that," Cheyenne sighed. "I'm just so bi-polar when it comes to employment. I want to do so many things, so I'm always jumping around. I'll never be able to settle with just one thing."

"Are you working now?" he asked politely.

"Nah, I just quit my job. Well, kind of."

"What do you mean by kind of?"

"My season ended."

"Season?" Fraser asked, confused.

She nodded. "I was acting for a company in Ontario, and my season ended two weeks ago."

"Oh," Fraser was surprised. Cheyenne had always expressed and interest in acting, but he never knew she was so serious about it. "Did your contract expire or something?"

"Not exactly," she grinned, and evil glint in her eyes. She dramatically dropped her voice to a stage whisper. "You see, I slept with artistic director, and then the business director fired me at the end of the season when we got in a fight about it."

Fraser reddened automatically, and quickly looked away.

"Am I making you feel uncomfortable?" She asked teasingly, leaning forwards towards him.

"Not at all," he lied, trying to keep from making eye contact with her, but it was difficult. Her eyes almost had a magnetic pull to them.

"Really?"

"No," he admitted, grinning.

She laughed, and leaned back in her chair again. "Okay, I get it. No more descriptions of my sex life. But that doesn't let you off the hook. Any women I should know about?"

Fraser immediately thought of Victoria and winced. This did not go undetected.

"What was her name?" Cheyenne probed.

"Victoria," Fraser sighed.

"What happened?"

"She tried to kill me."

Cheyenne's eyebrows shot up about a foot. "Oh dear." She said quietly.

"Yes."

"Well you never were that wise when it came to choosing your women." A small smile tugged at the corner of her mouth.

Fraser couldn't help it. He let a wide toothy grin crack across his face. "That's not funny," he chuckled, even though it really was.

Cheyenne laughed heartily, but then bit her lip. "Do you have to work tomorrow?"

"Yes," he said regretfully. This was very curious. He had never been disappointed to go to work before.

"I won't keep you up too late then."

Fraser looked at his watch. They had been talking so animatedly that time had quite slipped by. It was nearly eleven.

"That's probably wise," he stood up, and trying to conceal his disappointment, thanked her for a wonderful dinner.

"Where am I sleeping?" she asked.

He offered her the bed and she refused relentlessly…until he threatened to tie her to it, and laughing she gave in.

"I feel horrible that you have to sleep on the floor," Cheyenne said shrewdly, once he had rolled out his bedding onto the floor. Diefenbaker had insisted on sleeping with her in the bed, and after relentless argument, Fraser gave in.

"I'm used to it," Fraser replied, as he turned out the light. "Stop troubling yourself."

"Night Ben," she said quietly as he lay down.

"Good night Cheyenne," he grinned, rolling over. And before he knew it, he was asleep.


	3. Chapter 3

**NOTE: Hi everyone **** Thank you kindly for your very nice reviews; they sort of lifted me out of my pro-longed writers block. I'll try and do a chapter a day. I'm glad you guys like this story, and I had a lot of fun writing the character Cheyenne – she's really unique and has many layers- and I hope you guys will enjoy her as much as I do. Keep up the kind reviews, and enjoy **

** -Cynthia**

Benton Fraser woke to the warm and delightful smell of maple smoked bacon. Blinking sleep out of his eyes, he looked at the alarm clock. It was 7:02, rather late for him to be waking up.

Suddenly, the blankets were wrenched off of him, and he shivered from the absence of their warmth.

"Good morning sunshine," Cheyenne said in an annoyingly sing song voice.

"Is this a dream?" he wondered vaguely, looking up at her.

"Your worst nightmare," Cheyenne dropped down next to him on the floor. "Get up and get dressed. I made you breakfast." She got up herself, and just before she was out of sight, she glanced back at him and grinned devilishly. "Not that I don't love you in red."

Fraser looked down, and with a fresh wave of humiliation, realized he was wearing his thermal red union suit. He wouldn't have been more embarrassed even if he were with the queen.

Mentally kicking himself, he got up and changed into his brown uniform.

Cheyenne had set the table for two, and was dumping a heap of bacon onto his plate. She had also made eggs, pancakes, toast, and hash browns. Fraser's stomach rumbled.

"Wow," he said as he sat down. "This looks-"

"There is no need to thank me," Cheyenne grinned, rolling her eyes. "I'm actually surprised you've gotten on without me for all this time. You know, your kitchen really is quite disappointing. No food at all!"

"Where did you get all of this?" Fraser wondered, biting into a piece of toast.

"I went for a walk this morning and I found a market down the street. I guess I got lucky considering it was open this early."

Fraser nodded, finding it amusing that she had actually woken before he had. That had never happened when they were young.

"These hash browns are amazing,"

Cheyenne's mouth twitched. "Well I'm not even going to lie; I got those from the frozen food section."

Fraser laughed, and proceeded to devour six pancakes in a row. All the while Cheyenne watched him, an oddly satisfied expression on her pretty face. When he had finally finished, the table was sufficiently lighter, and his stomach quite a bit heavier.

She looked at Fraser's watch. "Time for work," she said briskly, pulling the plate out from under his nose. "Into the bathroom you go."

"You are-" Fraser started, a broad grin emerging onto his face.

"The ex-girlfriend from hell? Oh yes,"

"But you're also my friend," Fraser said sincerely, taking her hand. "And I've missed you. A lot."

She smiled, and pushed him into the bathroom, exclaiming loudly about oral hygiene. Then she promptly turned her back on him so he wouldn't see her eyes filling with tears.

The long idle hours spent in front of the Consulate were excruciating, but it was difficult to dampen Fraser's spirits. As he served his time in motionless patience, Fraser couldn't help feeling a lot happier than he had in a long time. Lately he'd been feeling a little bit disconnected from his past, and he hadn't exactly tried to repress such feelings. Especially after the Victoria disaster.

Idly he wondered about Cheyenne; where she was, what she was doing, what she was thinking, and he wished how he could be with her, rather than standing here as still as a statue on the Consulate steps.

Today was a pretty boring day - only one kid had attempted to disturb him from his duty by sticking a piece of gum on the sleeve of his serge – and he was glad when Ray showed up a few minutes before his shift had ended.

"Oh come on Benny, you got off like two minutes ago!"

Fraser remained motionless for another thirty seconds despite Ray's incessant complaining, and then relaxed, looking down at his wrist.

"I think your watch is off, Ray."

"Yeah whatever, Benny. Lets go."

"Err, go?" Fraser asked as Ray grabbed his shoulder and began to steer him down the street. "Go where?"

"I need your help with something."

"Oh?" He asked, curious. "With what?"

"I've been assigned to a new case, and I have to head down to the forensics building to pick up some documents. You have gum on your sleeve, by the way."

Fraser picked it off. "Why do you need my help?"

Ray rolled his eyes. "They've got some hard noses down there, and I thought maybe they'd soften up a bit if I brought a mountie with me."

"Why?" Fraser wondered as he stepped aside to avoid a passing woman talking loudly into a cell phone.

"You can trust a mountie. They don't lie or have ulterior motives."

"Ah," Fraser nodded seriously. "Is there anything specific that you want me to say?"

"No, don't say anything. Just look really sincere."

"How long do you think this is going to take?" Fraser asked as they reached the car.

"Hopefully not more than a couple of minutes. Why?"

"Oh just wondering," Fraser said casually, trying not to let his face betray him. He really didn't want to have to explain the whole Cheyenne thing to Ray, because he knew his friend would never rest until he heard the whole story.

"Well if this goes the way I hope it will, it will be quick and relatively pain free."

Fraser nodded briskly, and the car ran a red light, nearly taking out a few pedestrians. "You really shouldn't do that, Ray," he frowned.

"You're the one who wanted to get this over with," Ray snapped.

Normally he would have objected, but for once, he remained silent. It was a tribute to his hospitality to Cheyenne that he didn't insist on Ray slowing down.

They reached the forensics office fairly quickly, mostly due to Ray's insistence on not abiding traffic laws. Fraser idly followed Ray inside, remembering his friend's request to keep his mouth shut and not say anything.

"Hi, I'm Ray Vecchio, Chicago Police Department," Ray stated to the woman at the front desk. "Can I speak with Don Lipinski, please?"

"Do you have an appointment?"

"Well," Ray paused, deliberating whether or not to lie. "Actually no, but I thought it would be okay to come on short notice since we've known each other for a while now."

The woman pursed her lips in disapproval. "Mr. Lipinski doesn't like to see _anyone_ without an appointment," she said sternly. "You really should have called first."

"Yeah well, I'm sorry lady, but– "

Fraser interrupted him before he was able to start yelling sufficiently. "We're very sorry to be so presumptuous ma'am, but this is a matter of most urgency, and I'm sure we'd both greatly appreciate it if you made an exception just this once."

"Oh," she looked a little baffled, and her light green eyes appraised him. "Well I suppose maybe it would be alright, _just this once_."

"Thank you kindly ma'am," Fraser smiled politely, and she flipped her copper colored hair in response.

"Now you're very welcome. You'll find Mr. Lipinski down the hall, in office three." Her smile was a little bit too inviting.

Fraser thanked her again, and pulled Ray down the hall after him.

"How do you do that Benny?"

"Do_ what_?"

"Get people to do exactly what you want?" He sounded incredulous.

"Lets not exaggerate, Ray."

Fraser knocked, and then hearing the affirmative from inside, pushed the office door open and stood back so Ray could walk in first.

A balding man wearing glasses and a neatly pressed navy blue suit sat at a desk, and was shuffling through paper work. He looked up as they entered, and Fraser could see the black circles under his eyes, and the frown lines etched upon his brow. He did not smile.

"Vecchio," he mumbled coldly, looking back down at the paperwork again.

"Lipinski," Ray responded, equally without warmth. "It's been awhile."

"Not long enough," Don Lipinski sighed, and looked up again. "You know Detective, it's really kind of rude of you to barge into my office without an appointment."

Ray ignored this. "You have something that I need."

"And what's that?"

"The finger print readings for the Hoffman case."

"And why should I give them to you?" His voice was calculating. "I have reason to believe that you weren't assigned to this case."

"What?" Ray sounded genuinely surprised. "I can assure you that whatever information you have is false. Lieutenant Welsh assigned me to the Hoffman Case two days ago."

"Well then apparently he has either lied to you or replaced you."

"According to who?" Ray asked scathingly.

"This fax from Lieutenant Welsh. It came in this morning." Lipinski pushed a piece of paper across the desk towards Ray, who snatched it up and began to read indignantly.

"This authorizes the evidence from the Hoffman case to be passed to Detective Louis Gardino and Jack Huey as they have been assigned to this specific contingency and require the evidence for further investigation. Signed, Lieutenant Harding Welsh CPD."

"I can't believe this," Ray mumbled as Lipinski laughed coldly.

"So you will understand when I tell you that I cannot pass on these documents to you without authorization."

Fraser bit his lip, torn. On one hand, he knew it was indeed wrong that Ray should receive the documents since the case wasn't assigned to him and he should simply stay silent. But on the other hand, Ray was his friend; his best friend, and time and time again he was getting cases stolen away from him without real cause and it was unfair. Taking a deep breath, Fraser made his decision.

"If you please sir, would it be possible for Detective Vecchio to obtain the documents although he was not assigned? Merely out of curious interest?"

"I don't hand out private documents in order to appease the interest of unauthorized detectives." Lipinski answered coolly. "Who are you anyways?"

"Constable Benton Fraser," Fraser answered quickly, smiling politely. "I first came to Chicago on the trail of my-"

"He's a mountie," Ray interrupted. "From Canada."

"A mountie, eh?" Lipinski asked, his lip curling in distaste. "Not the usual sort of company you keep, Vecchio."

"Well thank you kindly for your time, sir," Fraser interjected quickly before Ray could lunge at the man behind the desk. "Have a pleasant day,"

Swiftly he exited, pulling Ray behind him.

"I can't believe him," Ray mumbled angrily. "That guy is such a jerk, and he can get away with it because he's the manager of this place. Unbelievable."

"I know Ray," Fraser murmured, pulling his friend out of the building and opening the door of the Riviera. "But the distribution of power isn't always fair."

"You've got that right. But I still can't believe him."

"Maybe if you asked politely the first time around Ray, he would have given you the files.

"Yeah right Fraser. This is the real world."

They drove towards the CPD and Fraser winced as Ray nearly hit a passing biker.

"My father once told me that kindness and civility is the way to bring out generosity in anybody."

Ray snorted. "Yeah, what else did your dad say?"

"Well he often-"

Ray cut him off. "It was a rhetorical question, Fraser."

"Oh."

They had reached the CPD and Ray slammed the door as he got out. Fraser followed him awkwardly.

Still cursing as he swung open the door, Ray barged in through the building, until he had reached Lieutenant Welsh's office. Without knocking or announcing himself, Ray stormed into the office, and began to accuse Welsh, fuming.

Welsh held up his hands. "Get a grip on yourself, Detective Vecchio," he said tiredly.

"How could you give my case to those idiots?" Ray demanded, smacking his fist on the desk.

"Have some respect, and try not to break my furniture."

"Why?" Ray insisted. "Give me one good reason."

"I thought that Detective Gardino and Detective Huey would be better equipped to handle the Hoffman Case at this present time. I'm sorry to get your hopes up, but those are the facts, Vecchio."

Ray looked mutinous. "You-" he started, looking as if he was about to explode.

"I'm afraid I'll have to ask you to leave my office now, Detective Vecchio."

Fraser gently took Ray's arm and pulled him from the office.

"Not now Ray," he murmured. "Not here."


	4. Chapter 4

**Hello my lovelies!!! Basically, I must offer my apologies for not posting another chapter for such a long time. I had some computer problems – my hard drive crashed and I had to take it in to the shop – and I was using this frightful old desktop for a while that really just made writing a drag. Anyways, I have my lovely laptop back again now, so you can expect this to be updated much more frequently! So far, I really like where this is heading, and things start to get a little more intense in coming chapters. Anyways, keep up the great reviews, because they really make my day! (:**

**Love you all,**

**Cynthia **

Fraser took Ray back to Consulate. He figured it would be safer to get his friend out of the CPD before he did something really stupid. His apartment was out, what with the whole Cheyenne thing going on. Fraser wasn't quite ready for that introduction.

So it was with a firm mind set that he ordered a fuming Ray to drive back to the consulate, and thankfully, Ray didn't argue.

He sat his friend down inside his own modest office, and for a while simply stared at him, evaluating his anger level. Was it safe to let him drive home alone?

"What are you staring at?" Ray asked sulkily, but he didn't look like he was about to set off explosives anymore.

Fraser's phone rang. "Excuse me," he said politely to Ray as he picked it up.

"Benton Fraser, Canadian Consulate, Chicago, the United States of America,"

Ray rolled his eyes, but Fraser didn't see him.

"I know who you are Fraser, a simple hello would've probably done it."

"Oh," Fraser paused. "Hello Jasmine,"

"Hi."

"Was there something you…wanted?"

"Not I, no, but there's a woman here who claims to be a friend of yours?"

"Oh," Fraser said surprised, running a hand through his hair. "I suppose you can just inform her that I am in my office."

"Should I tell her you're busy then?" Jasmine asked hopefully.

"Oh no, that won't be necessary," Fraser said pleasantly. "If you could show her where-"

"I'll bring her down," Jasmine interrupted him shortly.

"Thank you kindly Jasmine." The line went dead.

"Who exactly was she talking about?" Ray asked curiously.

"Well I can't really be sure, but I think she-"

The door opened at just that moment. Fraser turned, and Ray jumped off the desk immediately, running a hand over his balding head and straightening his suit jacket.

A very disgruntled Jasmine mumbled a "hello" to both of them before exiting the office before Fraser could say anything.

Cheyenne on the other hand, looked positively overjoyed. Her smile was wide and inviting, and she looked fantastic. Her outfit was simple yet stylish, with a fitting leather jacket, gray skinny jeans, and extremely high heels. Her blonde hair was pin straight and in a high ponytail atop her head.

With a twinge of regret, Fraser wondered how it was possible for any woman to look so much like a super model all the time.

"Wow," he heard Ray say under his breath, and Fraser snapped back into the present.

"So this is where you work," Cheyenne was saying, her eyes sparkling as she took in every minuscule detail of the office.

"Yes, welcome to the Consulate," Fraser smiled and took her coat.

Ray coughed loudly, and Fraser found he had quite forgotten his friend was even in the room.

"Oh, Ray, this is my uh," he paused for a moment, searching for the right word. Ex-girlfriend seemed a little bit too cliché. "…my friend, Cheyenne Hunt."

"Ray Vecchio," Ray said smoothly, sauntering up to Cheyenne with all the cool he could muster.

Fraser held back a laugh.

"Pleasure to meet you Ray," Cheyenne flashed that white toothed smile as she shook his hand, and Ray nearly fell over. "I'm guessing you're Ben's work colleague?"

"Well not exactly a colleague, more of a partner in solving crime and detective work," Ray explained, practically bursting with pride.

"I see," Cheyenne said slowly, giving Fraser a knowing smile. "Well it's nice that Ben has made a friend as devoted to their field of work as you obviously are,"

This was film worthy material. Cheyenne, all too knowing of Ray's slightly self important personality was just turning on the charm, and Ray completely unknowing, was falling right under her spell.

"Well any friend of Fraser's is a friend of mine," Ray answered.

"Could Ray and I have a minute alone?" Fraser asked Cheyenne, grinning.

She nodded, and winking at him, left the room, closing the door behind her.

As soon as she had left, Ray began to do exaggerated heavy breathing, and his eyes widened so much that they appeared to be in danger of popping out of his head.

"Jesus Christ, Fraser," he exclaimed. "How did you ever manage to get anyone that good? I mean, even for you!"

Fraser held up his hands. "I would be happy to answer any question you want to ask me, but one at a time, please!"

"Is she really just your friend?" Ray demanded. "Or is that just code for 'secret girlfriend'?"

"She's really just my friend Ray."

Ray nodded briskly. "How'd you guys meet?"

"We were teenagers when we first met in Inuvik. Our grandmother's introduced us. They played bingo together."

Ray snorted. "That's romantic, Fraser."

"What does romance have to do with it?"

Ray rolled his eyes dramatically, and ran a hand over his balding head.

"What?" Fraser insisted, curious now.

"I saw the way you guys were looking at each other. Even when she was talking to me, her eyes just kept flicking right back onto you."

"Now that's just silly, Ray."

"It is not silly. It is the truth."

"Ray, I can assure you that any romantic chemistry that there once was between us is long gone."

Ray's mouth fell open. "I knew it!" he shouted. "I knew there was something there. Okay, out with it Benny. Tell me the story."

"We were young, we fell in love, and then we broke up…The end." Fraser said dully.

"Oh come on, it can't have been that boring! Just look at her!" Ray waved a hand towards the back of Cheyenne's head which was visible through the window.

"Well it didn't work out, and it's probably a good thing it ended when it did." Fraser sighed. "I was getting in way to deep."

"What the hell did she do to you?"

"She didn't do anything to me. It was entirely mutual."

"Yeah, that's what you say when the girl dumped you."

"Do you really want to know what happened?" Fraser asked quietly.

"Yes," Ray exclaimed, throwing his hands into the air. "Haven't I already asked?"

"I'll tell you the story, Ray, but you can't interrupt me until I'm done, okay?"

"Deal."

"Alright then," Fraser sighed.

"I was sixteen years old when I met Cheyenne. Her parents had divorced and she and her mother had moved to Inuvik to live with her mother's parents. My grandmother and Cheyenne's grandmother were very good friends and it was on one of their Bingo nights that I met Cheyenne."

"She had gotten in trouble for something, and as a punishment she was forced to accompany her grandmother that night. I myself was at home, doing some extensive research on different methods of Inuit ice fishing-"

Ray snorted. "Of course you were," he muttered under his breath.

"Now Ray, you promised not to interrupt,"

"Oh. Right. Sorry," Ray apologized, motioning for Fraser to continue. "Please go on."

"Well I saw her sitting in the living room, looking so bored and dejected, that I came and talked to her. I learned that she was new in town and hadn't really met anyone that she liked enough to hang out with, and that she wasn't getting along with her mom and that she really missed her dad. We talked for hours, and by the end of that night I found myself falling completely in love with her. I mean who could help it?" Sighing, Fraser glanced over at Cheyenne. Ray nodded in agreement.

"Anyways, we arranged to see each other again, and after that we quickly became the best of friends. We weren't very alike in our personalities, but we were both outsiders, and I think that's what brought us so close together. She was such a mystery to me, you see. Like a book that you've just begun to read and you have no idea what will happen next."

"I remember the night when I told her I was in love with her," Fraser smiled in spite of himself. "It was such a beautiful scene, and it was such a perfect moment. We were seventeen, and it was out on the frozen lake, in the dead of winter, bathed in starlight, that I told her how I really felt."

"What did she say?" Ray asked excitedly.

"She told me that she felt the same way," Fraser said quietly. "And that was it."

"What?"

"We fell in love," Fraser said simply. "But far too fast. We were too young for the kind of attachment we'd developed, I think. It was overpowering, and people around us started to notice."

"My father in particular became aware of the intensity of our relationship. He never really liked Cheyenne; she wasn't serious about school and had no real stable plans for a career. Of course he agreed that she was charming enough, but the kind of wit that she beheld did not work so well on my father. It merely made him suspicious of her intentions towards me. To him, she was a distraction. Nothing more, nothing less."

"My father always wanted me to become a mountie just like him, and it had always been my dream as well. I knew that I would have to serve my time at the Academy, and that this would take me away from Cheyenne for two years. A lot can happen in two years."

"My father told me that I shouldn't allow myself to be inhibited by a woman, and that I should tell her that no matter what, I was going to attend the Academy. I resolved that I would do so, because no matter how much I loved her, it was my dream. And I was only eighteen years old; far to young to be tied down."

"Did you end it then?" Ray asked, wide-eyed.

"No," Fraser said quietly. "I never intended to end our relationship. I walked over to her house, and told her that I was resolved to go to the Academy, even if it meant putting our relationship in a sort of dormant stage until I returned. She didn't respond well." Fraser sighed.

"It's important that you know that Cheyenne has always been very...willful. She did not want me to go to the Academy because that meant that she would be alone for two years. She had no friends in Inuvik, and college was definitely out of the picture because of her terrible grades in high school. Not that she wasn't smart." Fraser smiled in spite of himself. "She is one of the cleverest women I've ever known, Ray. So intelligent, and creative, and imaginative, and just mentally superior."

"Yeah I can tell," Ray glanced at the window. "But on with the story Fraser."

"Oh right," he struggled to remember his place. "We fought, and she proceeded to have the kind of breakdown that are only mentioned in books and movies. She had always been very emotional and sensitive, but never like this. She told me she never wanted to see me again, that I should stop letting my father manipulate me, and that I should just go to the Academy and forget about our relationship because it really didn't matter that much anyways. She told me a lot of things that I wish to erase from my memory, Ray." Fraser bit his lower lip. "But in a way she was right. I was being manipulated by my father. There must have been a way to still keep in contact despite the fact that I was in training. There was no need to postpone our relationship. We could have managed it, I think."

"What happened next?" Ray asked.

"I'm getting to that. That night she kicked me out, and for the next couple of days I tried to call her and come and visit, but she wouldn't see me or even speak to me. Then one day, they were gone."

"Gone?"

"Without a trace. The car was gone and Cheyenne's grandmother only knew that Cheyenne's mother Eileen had planned on going south with no intention of coming back."

"Did you ever hear from her again?" Ray asked, frowning.

"Never. And we moved a few years later, so it wasn't as if she could contact me by mail. I hadn't seen her since that last fight."

"And then she just showed up on your doorstep?" Ray guessed, grinning.

"No, we collided outside of a cafe, and I almost instantly recognized her. She looks exactly the same."

Ray glanced at her, eyebrows raised. "Wow, I don't know how anyone that beautiful could have no friends as a teenager. That's just weird."

"She was always very mysterious," Fraser grinned. "I think the other kids were almost scared of her."

"That's one hell of a story, Benny." Ray said seriously.

"Yes." Fraser rapped on the window, and motioned for Cheyenne to come back inside. "Please don't tell her I told you any of this Ray," he said suddenly. "I don't know if she'd feel entirely comfortable if she knew that you know."

"You got it, Benny."

With that, Cheyenne came striding back into the room, platinum pony tail swinging, and a smile on her lips. "Is it safe for me to come back in now?"

"We'll tell you if we want you to leave again," Fraser grinned, gesturing at the desk chair. "Have a seat."

She sat down and smiled slyly. "So what time do you get off?"

"Oh, I got off a while ago. I was just here to help Ray."

Ray winced.

"Well I was thinking of taking an early dinner or late lunch, and I was wondering whether you boys would care to join me."

Fraser opened his mouth to answer the affirmative, but Ray interrupted him.

"We can't. The charity ball is tonight, remember?"

"Oh," Fraser frowned. "That's right."

"It's a benefit ball for third world countries. The CPD is required to be there." Ray explained for Cheyenne's benefit.

"But the Consulate isn't!" Fraser quickly interjected. "So dinner sounds great." Quickly he grabbed her hand and began to pull her out of her seat and towards the door.

"Not so fast, Benny. I already bought your ticket, and you promised to accompany my sister."

Fraser blinked. Ray was right of course. He'd made a promise and he'd have to stick with it. "I wouldn't want to disappoint Francesca."

"Francesca?" Cheyenne asked shrewdly, vaguely lifting a perfectly plucked eyebrow.

"My sister. Who's going to be very annoyed if you are a no show, Benny."

"You're right of course Ray. I will go to the ball." Could they detect the slightly mournful tone in his voice?

If they did, he didn't notice.

"The ball starts at eight, and it's 4:30 now, so how about I pick you up at like 7:30? That'll give me time to get ready and drop off your tux."

"Tux?" Fraser asked blankly.

"Oh yes," Ray grinned maliciously. "With a bow tie and everything."

"Oh my god, that would be hilarious! I can't even imagine you in a tux!" Cheyenne giggled at the thought.

Fraser reddened. "Wow thanks Cheyenne," he mumbled. "I'm glad I can count on your support."

"I'm sure you'll look positively dashing!" She winked, and he found himself feeling very warm around the ears.

"Alright, well I should be off to pick up the tuxes, and drop you off at your apartment, Benny." He turned to Cheyenne. "Are you driving your own car, or did you take a cab here?"

"Well, I did drive my own car to Chicago, but I wanted the authentic experience, so I decided to take a cab today." Cheyenne said cheerfully. "It was rather fun, and I had a lovely chat with the driver. He seemed very interested in showing me the city!"

Fraser grinned, and Ray snorted. "Yeah I'll bet he was interested alright. Shall we get out of here?"

They both nodded, and left the Consulate.

* * *

With Dief between them Fraser and Cheyenne were both sitting together on the floor reading aloud when there was a knock upon the door.

"Don't go anywhere," Fraser grinned, putting down the book. Quickly, he opened the door, and found Ray standing on the threshold, holding a garment bag. "Would you like to come inside, Ray?"

"No I'm only here for a minute to drop your tux off. Don't even think about messing it up, because even though I've got a discount from the guy that I got this from, he'll still be pretty mad if it gets ruined in any way."

Fraser was serious as he answered. "I will try my hardest not to let any harm come to it Ray."

"Yeah well, I trust you." Ray mumbled, handing it over. "Oh and by the way, Frannie's coming down with something, and she doesn't want to go out into public looking like Rudolf the red nose reindeer, so she asked me to apologize, and tell you that hopefully she can make it up to you in some other way."

Fraser shuddered as he contemplated what that "other way" might be.

"But you're still going anyways cause I bought you a ticket, and I've got you a back up date."

"Who?" Fraser asked curiously, leaning against the door frame.

"It's a secret, but you'll find out tonight," Ray grinned. "and for that reason, I'm afraid I can't drive you either. I wouldn't want to blow the secret."

"I'll just take a taxi then?" It came out more as a question than a statement.

"You do that Benny," Ray leaned in through the doorway, and noticed Cheyenne sitting on the ground, the book lying before her. "What were you guys even doing before I got here?" He asked curiously.

"Reading Shakespeare's sonnets," Fraser answered as if it was a perfectly normal thing to do. "We used to read them aloud to each other when we were teenagers."

Ray rolled his eyes. "How cute. Listen, can I have a word with your lady friend?"

"Uh, sure," Fraser said, a little confused. "Cheyenne, Ray would like to speak with you for a moment."

"Lovely," she grinned, getting up and moving towards the door.

Fraser waved at his friend, bade him farewell, and ambled into the kitchen to feed Diefenbaker.

"What was that all about?" He called, when he heard the door close.

"Oh nothing," she responded vaguely. "Look, I think I'm going to go into town for a little while. You know, pick up stuff for dinner tonight."

"Ah," Fraser re-entered the main room. "I'm really sorry about tonight," he said mournfully. "It's really rude of me, but I promised Ray I would go to this thing, and I really don't want to let him down."

"I understand of course," she smiled, touching the back of his hand.

He shivered.

"I'll see you later tonight and positively bombard you with questions about your evening!" She grinned, grabbing her purse and jacket. "See you Ben!"

He murmured a goodbye, and stood in the middle of the kitchen for a long time, perplexed.

Dief whined, his food untouched.

"I don't know either, Dief," Fraser said honestly. "I have no idea what's going on anymore."


	5. Chapter 5

**Hey Loves! **

**It's been a while, and for that, I offer my apologies. I have finals coming up, and am drowning in homework, so chapters are going to be coming up a little bit slowly. It took me a while to write this chapter in particular because I would write a section, get embarrassed (you'll soon see why (; ), and then delete it. Anyways, I finally got things where I want them, and I'm looking forward to writing more about the Ray side of this story. He still has yet a large part to play. Keep up the reviews! They're great and inspire me to keep working on this. Oh, before I go and leave you all to it, I'd like to especially thank vic32 for her wonderful feedback and input. You're awesome, and so is your writing(: **

**Love always,**

**Cynthia**

Fraser dressed with little time to spare. Standing in front of the mirror, in a tux and bow tie, Fraser found himself feeling very silly. Even Dief barked loudly, as if he were laughing at him.

"I can't go out like this, Dief," Fraser groaned, putting his hands on either side of the mirror.

Dief barked again.

"Yes, I know it's completely embarrassing, but I guess I'll have to just deal with it."

Dief's ears twitched.

"Alright well I'm off. Try not to get in too much trouble while I'm gone."

Fraser flagged down a cab pretty quickly, and as he got in he found a feeling of dread settling into the pit of his stomach. This was sure to be a painful evening. An evening he could have spent with Cheyenne.

The drive was far too short in Fraser's opinion, but as he got out of the yellow automobile, and caught sight of the well dressed people entering the building in front of him, he felt almost excited. At least to see this mystery woman Ray had chosen for him. Although he would be counting down the hours until he got to take off for home, Fraser was undeniably curious about this woman.

Biting his lip, Fraser walked in the open door, and almost smiled at the sight of the place. Tall marble pillars gave off a majestic air and the whole place was hung with velvet and gold ribbon. Glass ornaments and sculptures were everywhere, and the light from the large crystal chandelier reflected off of the many facets. It was undeniably lovely.

Fraser rotated on the spot, trying to find Ray, but it was difficult to pick anyone out. Women clad to the nines in long silk dresses and men in tuxedos and suits identical to his own filled the entrance hall, and it was difficult to recognize any familiar face.

"Fraser?"

"Ah, hello Elaine."

Elaine was wearing a long dress of a wine colored taffeta material. She looked quite pretty, and her smile directed towards Fraser was almost a little too friendly.

"Why are you standing here all alone, Fraser?"

"Oh," Fraser avoided her eyes. "Well I'm waiting for Ray,"

"Of course," Elaine smiled knowingly. "And do you have a date tonight?"

Fraser bit his lip, deliberating. "Well actually yes, but I'm not quite sure who it is."

She raised her well penciled eyebrows. "Huh, that's odd. Someone Ray chose?"

"I suppose so."

"Well I'm sure you'll find out soon enough. I'll see you later, Fraser. Good luck tonight!" She winked, and walked away from him, taffeta rustling.

Now he was alone, and he felt extremely awkward standing by the entrance all by himself. He was just deliberating whether or not he should just leave, when he heard Ray's voice.

"Hey Benny!"

Ray was walking towards him, hair slicked back even more than usual, and grinning ear to ear. And on his arm was...the most beautiful woman Fraser had ever seen.

She was wearing a long black silk dress that trailed on the ground as she walked towards him, hips moving rhythmically. The front dropped in a V to her abdomen, making the swell of her chest faintly visible. Her platinum blonde hair was piled upon her head perfectly imperfect with strands in the front framing her face. And that face...her features were delicate, each one defined as if molded by the careful work of a sculptor. Her eyes were large, almond shaped and slightly slanted, and they were a bright clear blue, like the color of the ocean. Her lashes were long and dark, and a shimmering golden champagne color was dusted over the eyelids. Her lips - not too large but certainly not slight - were colored a deep red. A light rosy blush colored her defined cheek bones.

"Your date," Ray said slyly, handing her over to Fraser. "But I believe you know each other already?"

"I believe we do," she said coyly. "You look very dashing, Ben."

Fraser turned the color of her lipstick. "Did you two plan this?" He asked suspiciously.

"Not until today," Ray said quickly. "Francesca really does have a head cold, and so I asked your friend here if she'd be interested in going with you instead."

"It was a tough job finding a dress though," Cheyenne smiled impishly. "I had to run all over town looking for one and then get ready in the department store bathroom. I think the staff thought I was a little crazy."

Fraser laughed, still a little bewildered. "Well I don't even know what to say," he admitted.

"Don't say anything," Cheyenne grinned. "Just dance!"

And with that, she took his hand and placed it on her bare waist (he realized with a shiver that the dress had basically no back), and began to whirl him about in a complicated waltz.

"No one is dancing in here," Fraser mumbled, slightly embarrassed as they rushed away from Ray.

"Then lets follow the music!" She waltzed him through two open doors into the room that was clearly reserved for dancing. The orchestra was playing, and colorfully dressed couples whirled by in a blur.

"I still can't believe you're even here," Fraser said honestly, maneuvering around a woman in a scarlet dress.

She smiled vaguely. "It is kind of surreal isn't it?"

"Completely. I remember last time we danced together."

"We weren't waltzing," she noted, pursing her lips.

He nodded. "That's true."

"You look very handsome tonight Ben," she said suddenly.

"Oh," he lowered his eyes. "Well, I-"

"God you're always so embarrassed. It's really endearing." She smiled, her scarlet lips pulling back over white teeth. "I always loved that about you, you know."

"Really?" He asked nervously. Behind them, the orchestra had finished the movement, and they were shuffling music about on the stands.

Cheyenne stopped and stood still, waiting for the new number to start up. "Yes. It made me feel kind of powerful because I could make you blush and feel self conscious and stuff like that."

Fraser blinked. "Well you certainly did have a profound effect on me," he murmured.

"Do I now?" She asked curiously, crossing her arms and surveying him closely with narrowed eyes.

"Yes," he admitted honestly.

"Truly?"

"Yes," he mumbled. "Cut it out Cheyenne,"

"What?" She asked, raising her eyebrows.

"Oh I don't know...dazzling me, or whatever you're doing."

The orchestra started up again, and Fraser caught sight of Ray offering his hand to Elaine to dance. He smiled.

"I'm sorry," she said sincerely, leading him in a kind of fast foxtrot like dance. "I don't do it on purpose."

"I know," he smiled. "Don't be. It's a combination of you being incredibly attractive, and me being very susceptible to your charm. Or something like that."

"Hmm," she said slyly. "You think I'm incredibly attractive, huh?"

"Don't you know that by now?" He was clearly chagrined, and he tried to turn his face away from her so he could hide it.

"You used to tell me all the time," she said slowly, dropping her hand from his shoulder and gazing at him, unmoving. "But I never used to believe it."

"Why wouldn't you?"

"Well," she said shrewdly, raising her eyes upwards. "No one exactly liked me in Inuvik. I figured I must have had some sort of property that repelled people."

"I think it was the general crowd. They didn't appreciate your genius." He was only half joking.

"But it's always been like that," she insisted, crossing her arms. "I've never really had any good friends other than you until recently in New Burbage where I was doing all of the acting stuff. And even then I could tell that there was kind of a brick wall between those few people and myself. Even with my director; the one person who I was closer to than anyone else."

"I've told you this before, but I think they're scared of you because you're so powerful," he said honestly. "I don't think you realize it, but people are drawn to you. And then your influence over them pushes them away."

"Is that what happened with you?" Her voice was sharp and icy. "Is that why you left?"

"No!" He said, shocked. "No Cheyenne, not at all. Lets not talk about this, okay. Why don't we just dance?" He took her hand.

"Dance," she said slowly. "Okay. We can dance."

A very slow song started up, and Fraser took her waist in his hand and tentatively held her a little closer than before.

To his surprise, she closed the gap between them, pushing herself against his chest, and pressing her cheek against his.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I didn't mean to speak to you like that. Please forgive me."

"I've already forgotten about it," he smiled. "Lets not talk for a while? Okay?"

"Okay."

So silently, they swayed back in forth in time to the piano and solo violin. Her arm wound tightly around his shoulder, and his hand pressed her waist securely against his. Her breath tickled his ear, sending shivers down his spine that he prayed to god she couldn't feel. Fraser's eyes closed, but not before he had seen that she had done the same. Enveloped in warmth, he found himself thinking of all the times that he wished he could have this back; Cheyenne and moments like this. And he was enjoying _this_ way too much.

"Oh Ben," she sighed. "Where is this going?"

"I don't know," Fraser answered honestly, but he felt his thumb caress the warm skin beneath it.

"Because if you keep this up, I'm going to find myself falling for you all over again. And I don't think that's good news for either of us."

Fraser's eyes snapped open. "You find yourself in danger of falling for me?"

"Oh I think I do," she pressed her lips against his jaw, and he shivered.

Just then the song ended, and they quickly pulled apart, blushing.

"Do you want to get out of here?" She asked quietly, peering up at him from beneath dark black lashes.

He nodded swiftly. "I think Ray will understand."

Cheyenne's eyes searched the room for Ray, and she laughed when she saw him kiss Elaine's hand. "Yeah I don't think he'd mind."

"Lets go then," he took her hand, and together they swept from the room.

* * *

"Do you remember that night when we first met?" Cheyenne asked him, and she curled up in a small ball on the sofa.

"Yes," Fraser smiled, sitting on the floor in front of her. "Like it were yesterday."

"I couldn't understand why you were so nice to me," she laughed, twirling a strand of fair hair around her finger. "No one else was."

"I kind of thought you were beautiful or something," he answered casually. "And lonely. I didn't like to see anyone so lovely looking so sad."

She bit her lip. "It never made any sense for you to love me. You had everything. Friends, family, a future...You didn't need me. But oh did I need you."

The corners of Fraser lips turned up. "So it may have seemed. But I was lonely too. I think we were both outsiders."

"You certainly didn't have much of a life after you met me," she laughed dryly. "I hope you didn't resent that."

"Not at all," he reassured her. "I never resented anything when I was with you. I was too damn happy."

Her blue eyes widened. "You just said 'damn'!"

"So?"

"So....you never swear!"

Fraser frowned. "I do sometimes,"

"But not often."

"I'm sorry. I'll stop if it bothers you."

She rolled her eyes and smacked his shoulder. "You are so absurd."

"Are you cold?" He asked concerned, as she subtly suppressed a small shiver.

"A little," she confessed.

Automatically, he retrieved a blanket from the bed, and placed it gently around her shoulders.

"Thank you," she smiled, as he sat back down beside her.

He nodded, and untied the bow around his neck. "Maybe we should change. This thing is killing me."

"Ah, but you look so handsome!"

"Stop it you're making me blush."

She grinned deviously. "Good."

Fraser rolled his eyes and unbuttoned the top button of his white shirt. "You really are a little vixen, you know that?"

"Yes," she laughed. "But I kind of like wearing this dress. "It makes me feel pretty important, you know?"

"Well it certainly looks lovely on you," he smiled, touching a length of the silk that had spilled off the sofa onto the floor.

She blinked, and smiled. "You're lovely," she said quietly. "You always have been."

Fraser's eyes were nervous. What did she want? He didn't even know what he wanted. But it was no good. It would do no good to think about it.

She bit her lip. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that."

He sighed, and looked up at her. "Don't be. It's not just you, you know."

"It's been more than ten years, and I'm still just as attracted to you as I used to be."

"Please don't say that," he said quickly, getting up and kneeling in front of her.

"Would it be out of order for me to ask why?"

"Because if you say it, it will make it real. And then I don't know if I'm going to be able to handle it."

She sat up abruptly. "You're right of course, you always are. It's not a good road to go down...again."

"Right."

"I'm glad we can be so rational about this, Ben," she said seriously, sitting up.

"Yes."

They sat there for several seconds, just looking at each other solemnly. And then it was as if a switch was flicked in his head.

As if in a dream, he took her hand in his, and her shoulder in the other, and pulled her down towards him. He brought his lips up to hers, and her eyes closed.

It was short, but very, very sweet.

"God, Ben," her eyelashes fluttered against his forehead. "You'll be the death of me, I swear."

He made a noise in the back of his throat, and turned his face away from her, hating himself for what he had done.

"This can't happen again," she said quietly, gently turning his face back towards hers, so their eyes were locked. "Because, if it does, I-"

"I know." He said quickly, cutting her off.

"Lets stop being all angsty and melodramatic," she said, her clear blue eyes oddly bright. "I feel like a hormonal teenager."

He laughed, but it came out all wrong; a little bit choked, and not quite genuine.

"Maybe we should just go to bed," he said quietly.

"Great idea," she nodded, squeezing his hand. "I think we both need a good nights sleep."

"Friends?" He asked carefully, letting go of her shoulder. "If nothing else?"

She smiled at him, and to his surprise, leaned down to tenderly press her lips to his forehead. "Friends." She agreed quietly.

* * *

That morning, Fraser was actually glad to get out of the apartment.

He and Cheyenne hadn't spoken much over breakfast; merely making polite small talk before she announced that she was taking a shower.

Still, he dressed slowly, listening to the running water from the only shower across the hall from his apartment. As he pulled his undershirt over his head, he wondered why it was that Cheyenne always managed to make him feel so complicated. When she was with him, his emotions became muddled; a mixture of excitement, desire, chagrin, and protective affection. But there was something else – an emotion which he couldn't quite put his finger on – which he hadn't felt since he was eighteen.

Could it be the very thing he feared so much as of late?

Sighing, he took his serge from the closet, and carefully laid it on the bed. He walked towards the door, meaning to ask Mr. Mustaffi if he could use his phone to call Ray, when he ran headlong into Cheyenne who had opened the door just as he had reached for the handle.

"Oh my god," she said, her eyes widening. She quickly covered her front, and Fraser immediately – and with a sharp twang of humiliation - saw why.

She was wearing nothing except for a white lacy bra, and a small towel wrapped around her bare waist. Water dripped from her hair, and clung to her exposed skin like dew drops.

Quickly he stepped back, averting his eyes. "I'm sorry," he mumbled lamely.

"Yeah, well don't be," she crossed her arms. "It's my fault. I thought you'd already left, so I figured I wouldn't need to get dressed, and...." Her voice trailed away.

"Um, you'd better go in." Fraser said blankly, stepping aside. _Icerbergs. You're in Antarctica. It's freezing, and you have bad frost bite. _It didn't work.

She nodded, and brushed by him, her skin touching his arm. He shivered noticably.

"Sorry," she smiled nervously, coloring cream and roses. "I guess I'm a little chilly."

He nodded mechanically.

"Oh," she blushed crimson. "Your suspender is twisted." Carefully, she reached up to fix the elastic, but her hand was shaking so violently that her slender fingers lingered on his chest for longer than necessary.

Fraser closed his eyes, taking a deep breath and hoping that this burning feeling would pass.

"I'd better get dressed," she said slowly, but she didn't move. There was an odd blue fire burning in her eyes.

"Probably," he said automatically, but he took her shaking hand - still grasping the suspender - in his own.

"Oh fuck it," she said hopelessly. And then she placed her free hand on the back of his neck, and pulled his face down to hers.

Their lips met quickly, his nose skimming across her cheek and her hand tightening around the back of his neck. He kissed her gently at first, but as she began to relax, his lips became more and more urgent.

Cheyenne's mouth was soft and warm against his, but there was a certain confidence in it that he had never experienced when they were younger.

Her hand slowly slid across his chest, over his wildly beating heart, and underneath his undershirt. Quickly, she slid down the suspenders and it was off, cast onto the floor.

Fraser wrapped one arm securely around her waist; holding her to him, and let his other hand weave into her hair. His breathing grew unsteady as she ran her hands down his chest and toned abdomen.

"I can't believe this," she murmured quietly, as his nose skimmed down her neck.

"Mmmm," he pressed his lips into the hollow at the base of her throat. "It's a little surreal."

"God, please tell me your grandmother didn't teach you to kiss like this." She said, trying not to laugh. Her pulse quickened as he kissed the corner of her mouth.

He chuckled against her skin. "Not her, no."

"Then who?," she asked, giving up as she pressed her lips back onto his.

He kissed her to the beat of their racing pulses; fast, irregular, and more out of control each second. "You did."

They never made it to the bed.


End file.
